Chapter 47 ACT AMBER, DON'T THINK
AMBER’S POV
My eyes fly wide open at the repeated knocks on the door, and I groggily move to open it, seeing Hera with a glass of milk, which has become a ritual as per the healer's instruction to take one every morning to improve my strength.
“Good morning, Luna, I brought your glass of milk,” she says, and it takes everything in me not to ignore her and shut the door, irritated by the sight of milk and her presence.
For days, I’ve been experiencing a lot of strange feelings, and they have thrown me off balance. The nausea I feel each day I wake up irritates me.
The constant mood swings frustrate me. The heightened senses I have now, hearing, smell, sight, touch, and taste, aggravate me.
Most of the day, I feel the urge to puke my guts out at the slightest foul smell I perceive. It’s more annoying because I barely eat anything.
I’m being tortured, and this doesn’t even bridge the full emotional scope of torment I’m in.
I’ve been crying on repeat for days, clinging to every memory I have of Damien. Most times, I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel the tears on my cheek.
My emotions are messed up, and I feel like parts of me are broken because certainly some things must have stopped functioning for me to feel this miserable.
Each dawn hits restart on my mind, recounting every reason why I’m cursed and every reason I should remain in gloom.
I miss Damien, and I worry for him. Where is he? How is he doing? What is he doing? When will he be done with it so he can come back to me?
These questions have been on a loop in my head, sustaining my grief, and having no answer to them makes me feel worse.
“Thank you,” I say to Hera, taking the milk from her before shutting the door, not bothering to tell her that I’ll not stomach this for more than a minute.
I pinch my nostrils shut and gulp down the glass of milk, hoping that I’m proven wrong, but in 20 seconds, nausea hits me with a potency that has me running to the restroom and vomiting every drop of it.
On the toilet floor is where I remain for a while, throwing up everything, down to the water in my system.
I don’t know how long I spend in the bathroom, but once I step back into the room, the sun is at its peak, adding a new layer of discomfort to me and I crash on the bed with an empty stomach and a sore throat, feeling the babies in my stomach kick in hunger but feeling too tired to move from my sitting position.
It took me a while to digest the fact that I have two werewolves inside me, and after I processed it, I felt my will to keep pushing double up.
My ears pick up the sound of footsteps before they get to the door, and I see the handle turn.
I catch a whiff of Derek's scent, which excites the babies, making them kick, frustrating me more.
He walks in, and I don’t bother looking up. He wasn’t supposed to meet me here, but today’s pregnancy side effects rocked me harder than most days.
“It’s been a week since you were discharged; it’s high time you begin your role as Luna. I’m not going to have you lying around every day doing nothing when everyone else works to provide food, clothing, and shelter for you. You have responsibilities, and you have to carry out all of them,” he says with a cold, detached voice that doesn’t faze me.
“Okay,” I say, not missing a beat, feeling too exhausted to give him any attention.
For one week, we’ve avoided each other, and I would not have it any other way. In the beginning, I thought he was just mean to me because he didn’t know me, but for him to attempt to kill someone he’s known all his life is on another level, and it shows me how menacing he is.
“You’ll start immediately.”
“What are my duties?” I ask him, now raising my head to show him how serious I am. I asked for an opportunity to be the Luna in every sense, and I will not shy away from my obligation, no matter how miserable I am.
“The fact that you have to ask me this shows just how clueless and inadequate you are. You are clearly a mistake for me. A Luna who doesn’t know her duties to the pack. Pathetic,” he says and walks away from me, but I feel nothing, not pain or hurt, as his words have no impact on me. I felt myself grow numb in all things regarding him.
I watch him enter the bathroom, and I start brainstorming how I’ll figure out what I’m to do, because obviously he won’t guide me.
Honestly, the more distant he is, the better I can breathe, and for every horrible thing he has ever done or said to me, this is a privilege.
A knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts, and I pick up a familiar scent at the door, but I’m unable to identify who it is, which has me reluctantly standing up and walking to the door.
I open it to see Fauna standing with a wide smile and a tray of food in her hands.
The joy I feel at the sight of the food overwhelms the discomfort I feel from the memory of our last interaction.
“Hera was bringing food up here, so I thought I'd help her with it and check on you in the process, “she says, and I’m already reaching into the tray and picking up the fork.
“I see,” I say, my eyes fixed on the food, with my mouth salivating, and everything else feels secondary compared to my urge to stuff my face.
“Looking at you, I can tell you are doing alright, better than I expected after Damien’s departure, if I’m being honest,” she says, and I stop digging into the scrambled eggs once she mentions Damien’s name.
“What do you mean?” I ask, and she smiles wider, shaking her head, giving off the same mysterious vibe as before.
“Never mind, Luna, I’m glad you’re fine,” she says, dismissing the topic, and I stare at her strangely. It’s the second time she’s acting this way, and it makes me feel unsettled. “How about you finish this, and then I guide you in carrying out your duties to the pack? At least it’ll get Derek off your back,” she says, once I start eating again, and I almost choke on the food.
“How did you know about this?” I ask her, stunned. She’s a witch with no heightened hearing sense, so I’m sure she didn’t hear us talk from a distance. Also, I didn’t hear or smell her while Derek was still talking, so there’s no way she should be aware of what we said.
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MENTAL UNREST